The Endless Winter
by sechilles
Summary: Before Voldemort's first fall, before Severus Snape joined Dumbledore, he is given an assignment, which looked no different than all the other assignments he was given. But he was wrong...


The order was simple: Disarm him, get the information, and execute him. Meaning, a green light to the chest.

He wasn't really bothered with the killing curse. It was the get the information part he didn't like. He had already done 12 hits by then. This would be his 13rd . Lucky number. Maybe it would be easier this time. Unlikely. While he knew he would succeed, he was sure his opponent wouldn't make it easy for him.

Dumbledore… Everyone knew he was the only wizard equal to the Dark Lord. Even Voldemort was wary of him. But Severus Snape was no fool. This would be a major blow to his Order if this mission went as planned.

It was snowing… Heavily. It didn't bother him. He had thought this one through. He had carefully destroyed all the wards protecting the manor, and replaced them with his own. He would simply walk through the door with a simple Alohamora, and if he was lucky, he would catch him in his sleep.

He got out of his invisibility cloak. There was no one around. He approached the door, and said the magic words. So far, so good.

As he entered the house, he noticed there were sounds coming from another room. He sighed quietly to himself. This would probably take longer than he wished. But Severus was not an optimistic. He believed things never went exactly as planned. But one could wish, no?

He noticed the house was decorated quite humbly, despite being a manor. There were books on the shelves, and pictures of people on the walls, and interestingly enough, they weren't moving. He thought he would have liked living here, but he pushed those thoughts away. He had a job to do.

He was a little surprised when he found him in the kitchen, his back turned, busy making what smelled like hot chocolate. He waited quietly for less than a minute, and then the man turned to face him.

They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like hours. Severus noticed, to his surprise, that there was no fear in those blue eyes. Nor was anxiety. His victim wasn't agitated, or shocked or even any willingness to fight … but only acceptance. Another thing he noticed was he wasn't holding a wand, but two mugs in his hands.

The other man, without saying a word, started to walk through the living room. Severus, feeling more and more uneasy by every passing moment, followed him. When they reached their destination, he gestured to a comfortable looking chair, but Severus didn't sit down until his victim left one of themugs on the coffee table in front of it, settled himself in the chair facing his.

"Don't you want to taste it?"

Severus knew enough about potions not to accept any drinks no matter what the circumstances are. But another thing he was good at was sensing danger. Yet victim number13, despite showing no signs of fear, didn't seem like he was in a hurry to harm him in any way.

"I didn't poison it, you know"

Bloody hell! _He_ was the one who was supposed to good at Occlumency. Despite it was against everything he ever learned in his life, Severus reached for themug and took a sip. If it was poisonous, it wasn't one to take affect immediately, and Severus found he quite enjoyed the way it tasted and smelled.

This hospitality took Snape off-guard. This guy didn't strike him as the kind who'd be falsely polite, and granted, it wouldn't do well to piss off a man who was obviously there to off you … but still, his sincerity was very unusual considering the situation.

Target number 13, even though looking wealthy, didn't have that arrogant aura about him like the every otherrich pure blood he knew had, no matter which side they were on. And this bloke was powerful, too. Not magically powerful, but he had gone very far in his investigations. Too far in fact, to go unnoticed by the Dark Lord.

Hence, Snape was here.

With the delicious hot chocolate mug in his hand, sitting in a comfortable chair, Snape could almost forget why he was here in the first place.

Just then, he noticed there was a book lying on the coffee table. Curious, he picked it up, and read the title on the cover: The Ice Palace. He blurted it out, "What is it about?"

"This?" He arched his eyebrow, surprised that he'd be interested in a mere book. Well, Severus coouldn't blame him. He was surprised too.

"The story is about two girls and the ice palace."

Gathered _that_ much from the cover already, but Severus decides to humor him. "The ice palace?"

Victim number 13 relaxed into a 'story time' posture, sitting deeper into the chair and fingering the book's cover again and again. "The story is set in Norway. One girl accidentally finds the cave frozen with ice in one very long and cold winter. She explores it, wanting to see more and more as she goes deeper into the cave. She comes to an end, unable to walk anymore. The other girl, her friend, goes to look for her. When her friend finds her, though, the girl is already dead, frozen in the deepest part of the cave."

Severus was, once again, surprised. "And you like this story?"

He put down the book. "It's fitting. Kinda like this … country right now."

Severus was amused. "Which part, the freezing to death?"

"No" he grinned. "Although that assessment seems pretty accurate too." He stands up and walks over to the window, lifting the curtain ever so slightly. "I guess the people from different regions of the world have different ideas on how the world is going to end. Spring, the savior, sometimes doesn't come in Northern European folktales and myths. The nature is a powerful force, I guess. Greek and Near East myths had floods, and the people in Norway had snow as the method of punishment from God--apocalypse."

Snape couldn't possibly see where this conversation was going, but it was hard not to listen to him. Myths and fairy tales. He never believed them, of course, but it was always nice to read about them. Not that he had much chance to read fairy tale books either.

"This world," he continued as he watched the snowflakes falling from the dark sky, "is like the ice palace. From outside, it's beautiful in its fragility. But once you walk into this ice palace, it'll kill you. If you stop walking because it feels good to stop and rest, because you want to give up, you freeze to death. Only when spring comes, it'll melt. Only then the ice palace will fall."

He stared into his eyes again. "I've been waiting for spring for a long time, but it seems like an endless winter right now." He was speaking to himself more than to Snape at this last part.

Was he getting soft? He was exchanging -well, not exchanging, he had hardly said a word, philosophical points of view about a sodding book and Norway mythology with a man whose dead body he would be standing on.

His victim shook his head slightly, as if chiding himself. "Sorry about the rant. No idea where it came from."

"It's okay" Severus said, sipping his hot chocolate.

After staring him intensely for a moment, his victim asked: "Have I met you before?"

It would have been such a lame attempt at breaking the ice if those blue eyes behind his glasses weren't glittering with genuine curiosity. And Severus had this disturbing feeling that he indeed did know him, knew him very well.

Of course he knew him, he had been memorizing his moves for the last month, as his victim undoubtedly had been told about Severus as well. But he couldn't possibly memorize his lips curling on the corners when he grinned, or the way his deep blue eyes penetrating into his.

Better just get this over with. "Look - "

"Ah!" he interrupted. "So…"

"So what?"

He grinned ever so slightly. "I don't have the memory."

"W-What – "

"One of you, it might have been you, killed my friend last week. I knew I would be next."

'Then why didn't you get the hell out, you sodding idiot' Snape thought. Honestly, he knew he didn't want to kill this man. He really wished he had gotten the hell out of here.

"Because you people thought I was the one keeping the memory, and concentrated on me, and didn't stop to think about ifI had passed it on to somebody else the moment I got it. It was delivered to Dumbledore …" he looked at the clock on the wall … "five hours ago."

Bugger.

Bastard knew it all along.

"Very brave of you, playing the bait." Idiot.

Snape took out his wand and pointed it directly to his head. "You do realize, that, by admitting you didn't have the memory, you just signed your own death certificate, don't you?"

Victim number 13 didn't say anything, just gave him a smile which obviously strung from obvious pride and confidence.

Snape stood up and waved his wand at the floor. "Could you save me the trouble and kneel?"

"I'd rather not, but I doubt I can win against you, huh?"

He kneeled down, right next to the coffee table. His face still shows no trace of fear, or regret. He didn't beg. Most did. Even some who were considered among the bravest. "You don't seem very afraid."

He shrugged. "If somebody had to die to make this happen, guess it better be me."

"Why?" Severus had to ask.

"Someone had to. Sometimes there isn't a choice. Just like you have no choice but kill me."

Victim number 13 was looking at him … with … compassion? Compassion, but not pity?

No, it wasn't pity, Snape thought, 'He really does care … which confirms the fact that he is insane. I'm about to kill him in cold blood, but he cares.'

...it hurt him, though. His little expressions, his knowing eyes, his familiar blue eyes ... Seeing them just hurt. Knowing that this guy was seriously whacked to care about even him didn't help ease this ... pain.

"Take of your glasses." Who cares? No idea where that came from.

He observed his victim wanted to ask. But didn't. He watched Severus while took them from him and settled them on the coffee table.

"I'm sorry." His victim said, looking as he meant it.

He almost asked him, "For what?", but he didn't. He already knew the answer.

His victim number 13 was sorry for him, his murderer.

He pointed his wand directly at his victim's head. His victim didn't blink … just looked straight in his eyes.

He tried to pull himself together for a moment, and said the magic words.

He almost dropped his wand though, afterwards. He stood over his body, staring into his eyes still, and they were staring right back at him.

He'd like to think they contained forgiveness, but he wasn't fooling himself.

Severus shook himself one more time. Then he picked his mug, walked into the kitchen, and started washing it. Where the hell had that come from? To think if he washed the mug, his victim would come back alive…

When he was finished, he came back to the living room to find his victim still on the floor.

And still dead.

It was stupid really, for expecting otherwise.

He passed the coffee table, for some strange reason, picked up the book and the glasses, and looked at his victim's eyes one last time. They were still staring at him, watching him. He looked away.

He opened the door and walked outside. It was still snowing. He walked to the spot where Bellatrix was waiting with a Portkey.

"Severus…" That translates as "How did it go?"

"It's done", was his short answer.

She gave him a satisfied look. "Our Lord will be pleased."

Not wanting to engage in a conversation with Bellatrix, Severus shot the dark mark into the sky, and they touched the Portkey. A moment later, they were inside the safe house.

Bellatrix must have sensed his strange mood, and asked: "What are those?" Severus looked at the glasses and the book. "Souvenirs."

He looked outside the window nearby. It was still snowing. He wondered who would find his body. His friends? Relatives?

And thought about his blue eyes … frozen, yet still staring at him, without any anger or sadness. They would remain forever open.

"The ice palace is gonna fall."

"What?" Bellatrix looked at him.

It was still snowing. But the ice palace was going to fall, thanks to the man he had killed minutes ago. And spring would come.

'If you stop walking because it feels good to stop and rest, because you want to give up, you freeze to death. Only when spring comes, it'll melt. Only then the ice palace will fall.'

But he had stopped walking. Just like the girl who stopped walking and froze to death.

He realized the sharp pain twisting his stomach. The spring would never come for him. It had died when his Victim Number 13 had died.

He just knew … There would only be endless winter from then on.


End file.
